


Necessity

by Evelyn6



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: And angst, F/M, Fix-It, Post episode: s06e04, Rumbelle - Freeform, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 07:20:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8318932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evelyn6/pseuds/Evelyn6
Summary: She didn't know when her thoughts had gone from bitter to blazing, but one moment they were arguing and the next his mouth was on hers and she couldn't think of a single reason why they should stop. Or, what we all wanted to happen after that last scene at the docks.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I can't have been the only one who watched that last scene at the docks and thought... now kiss. Well, here you are :D

"Threats won't make me love you again, Rumple."

Belle knew she didn't mean the words the moment they left her mouth, but they were already hanging there between them, ugly and accusatory and so unlike the words of devotion she missed whispering in his ear as they lay beside each other at night, their legs tangled beneath the covers.

She wanted to take them back. She wanted to take a lot back; so much that she'd lost count. Even when she resolved to let go of the resentment and anger that had built up between them, something else happened to bring it all back and she choked out the words she hated because some part of her needed him to hurt the way she was. It was cowardly and unfair, but there just the same.

Even worse than the lies she spewed, though, was the way her husband's face crumpled before her. It was so quick as to be almost unnoticeable - to anyone but her. To her, the pain that flashed in his eyes was so blatant that she couldn't have missed it if she tried. And despite having chosen the words specifically to hurt him, the fact that she had succeeded brought her none of the satisfaction she had hoped for. Rather, her heart twisted, wrenched even further than it had been every day since she'd turned her back on it and tried to push him away. She felt a new, sharp pain lance through her chest even as she clenched her jaw to keep her expression steady, cold, betraying nothing.

It was such an easy jump from anger to the heat that pooled in her belly when he pulled his mask back together and leaned into her face, practically snarling at her. Gods, but she loved when he looked at her like that - like he might devour her whole. His nostrils flared, his eyes blazing amber. She hated herself for the way her body responded almost as much as it relieved her to feel it. That tension, at least, was familiar. That one led to passion, to heat, to their bodies connecting between a sheen of sweat as they brought each other to the precipice of pleasure over and over until it crashed over them.

His newly cut hair was fluttering in the breeze, and she bit her lip as she wondered if his scalp was just as sensitive without the long locks she was used to. Would he moan as she scraped her nails over his neck, press his hips against her like he did when she tugged on the hair that used to brush his shoulders?

She didn't know when her thoughts had gone from bitter to blazing - probably when he started to walk away, but then came back at her with his eyes like brown fire - but her cheeks were heated with something other than anger now as she lifted her chin and met him eye for eye.

"No, but necessity will," he threatened, his brogue thick as he growled out the words. The sound of it had her clenching her thighs together, wetness already pooling between her legs and he hadn't even touched her.

She wondered, for a moment, if he was feeling the same tug as she was; if he was nearly as affected by their faces being mere inches apart, their ragged breaths brushing over each other. She could _smell_ him; and Gods, but that was the tipping point. The spice of his cologne, the tang from his magic, the tea on his breath - it all washed over her and the moan had worked its way out of her throat before she could stop it.

His expression faltered at the sound, his eyes narrowing as they looked at her first with suspicion and then with confusion. His eyes dropped to her mouth and she watched as his gaze went hot, his tongue darting out to brush against his bottom lip, and she was lost.

She couldn't tell who moved first. Not that it mattered, really. One moment they were arguing, throwing accusations back and forth, and the next his mouth was on hers. This wasn't the tender, leisurely kisses from their early days together. This was rough and demanding and somehow exactly what she needed. Still arguing, only the words were replaced with a messy clash of lips and wandering hands.

He pulled back just enough to bite at her bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth before his tongue laved at her, begging for entry to her mouth. She made him work for it, leaning back just the tiniest bit until he followed, chasing her mouth with a little growl. Only then did she part her lips and brush her tongue against his, and she shivered at the familiar taste of him and the way he yanked her against him so he could explore her mouth.

His hands were gripping her waist tight enough to leave bruises, and she relished in it as she let him sip his fill. He knew her well, her husband, his tongue brushing against all those tiny places that made her melt into his touch. She wasn't sure when she had wrapped her arms around his neck, only that she had to loosen her grip to pull back enough to catch her breath.

"Take us somewhere. Anywhere," she gasped, both their breaths ragged. "Now."

They were enveloped in crimson a bare half-second later, his magic transporting them somewhere dark and quiet. She only glanced around long enough to recognize the cabin around them before she grabbed him by the tie and pulled him toward her, their mouths meeting in a hasty, wet mess as they picked up where they'd left off.

She was vaguely aware that the room was getting warmer, and distantly she heard the crackle of the fire he must have set blazing, but their mouths were still locked and she wasn't going to waste time looking around. He was leading her backwards - towards a bed, she hoped. They tipped over an end table and a lamp along the way, but he didn't stop and so she kept tugging until her back hit a wall and, finally, his body was pressed up against hers.

She whimpered as he pressed her against the solid surface behind her, his hands delving to the hem of her dress and tugging it upwards until he reached the curve of her arse, and he cupped the soft flesh in his palms as he tugged her flush against him, hissing when she met with his erection where it was straining against his trousers. She smiled into his mouth at the feel of him, hot, hard and ready between her legs.

"Belle, please," he groaned, and she looked up to see his pupils blown wide and his eyes as dark as she'd ever seen them. It was an intoxicating sight, really, to see the powerful Dark One coming completely undone in her hands, begging for her permission to lose himself inside her.

For a split second, a small voice tried to speak up in the back of her mind, reminding her that this was a terrible idea, but she ignored it almost as soon as it came. She needed this.  _They_ needed this. Consequences be damned.

She lifted her leg to hook it over his hip and saw his shoulders sag with relief.

"Bed," she demanded, and Rumple didn't hesitate as he gripped her arse and lifted her up, nor did she when she wrapped her legs around him as he carried her to the bedroom.

He crawled onto the king size bed with her still wrapped around him, laying her back against the pillows with a gentleness that was almost too much for her to bear at the moment. Luckily, his patience lasted only long enough to see that she was settled comfortably before he started tugging at her dress again.

She swatted his hands away and went for his coat instead, pushing it off his shoulders. He let out a little grumble of protest that made her mouth curl. "You're wearing too many clothes."

He was eyeing her like the only salvation of a man dying of starvation, hungry and impatient, his gaze never leaving her as he relented and shrugged hastily out of his coat, tossing it carelessly behind him before he went to work on his jacket. That soon joined the growing pile on the floor and she shifted beneath him as she watched, parting her thighs further where they rested on either side of his knees. He started struggling with his cuff links then, his fingers visibly shaking as he looked at her instead of what he was doing.

"Oh come on, Belle," he whined when he still couldn't get the gold links free, his brown eyes pleading.

She hummed, keeping him on edge for a moment before she said, "Shirt and trousers."

He breathed a sigh of relief and a poof of magic later he was down to just those two pieces of clothing, barely waiting for the smoke to clear before he gathered her back in his arms. The sound he made when he kissed her made her toes curl, his mouth reverent as it was desperate, breathing her in as much as kissing her.

She kissed him back with every bit of the heat settling between her legs, rocking against him in an effort to get some kind of friction where she needed it most. Her hands, on instinct, tried to delve into the long strands of his hair when she realized that they were no longer there.

She pulled back, resting her head against the pillows as she looked up at him. He was gazing back at her hotly, his eyes wrecked, but he melted into her touch when she brushed the pads of her fingers over his jaw, trailing the smooth line up to his ear. She hesitated for a moment before she slipped past his hairline, her other hand joining her as she explored the new length of his hair. It was as soft as ever, just shorter, and she decided she rather liked the way the short bristles tickled her fingers and the way it they curled upwards at his forehead. And she decided she definitely it when he moaned loudly as she scraped her nails tentatively over his scalp, trailing down to his neck as he pressed forward to nuzzle at her temple.

Smirking, she wrapped one of her legs around his waist and threw her weight against him to roll him onto his back. He seemed surprised for a moment until he realized the sight she presented straddled over his lap. He went to reach for her, but she caught her wrists in hers and guided them above his head, giving him a firm look before she let them go.

He kept them obediently where she'd left them, however much he looked like he wanted to argue with her when she started to lift her dress over her head. She felt the rise and fall of his chest seize as she tossed the soft fabric over her shoulder to join the rest of their clothes, but she didn't meet his eyes as she unhooked her bra and sent it flying too, leaving her bare save for the lacy white panties that were doing nothing to contain the wetness already dripping down her thighs.

"Sweetheart..." he whispered, the word so soft and precious that she leaned forward and started working on the buttons of his shirt more so she could distract herself from how much it hurt to hear such love in his voice.

His words, indeed, turned into soft gasps and grunts instead as she parted his shirt and brought her mouth to his chest, his lean muscles rippling beneath her lips as she kissed over his hot skin. She pulled the taut bud of his nipple between her teeth, tugging on it until she heard him hiss with pleasure before swiping her tongue over it. She did the same to the other, heat rushing through her at the way he was trembling beneath her.

She let her nails follow the path her mouth took as she trailed little kisses and swipes of her tongue down towards his navel, then past it to nuzzle her nose against his crotch, pressing against the hardness there.

" _Fuck,"_ he growled, and that word was much better.

She let out a soft rumble of approval as she unbuttoned his trousers and undid his fly, tugging the waistband along with his boxers over his hips and down to his knees. His cock bobbed desperately between his legs, flushed red and leaking, and she licked her lips at the sight he made laid out before her, quivering, his eyes clenched shut and his hands wrenched so tightly into fists above his head that his knuckles were white.

She leaned over him, letting her breast brush against the tip of his cock, her nipple hard as it swiped over the liquid collecting there, his cock so hot it scorched the soft skin between her breasts as she dragged it between them. When he whimpered, she shifted lower, bringing her weight to her elbows and her face to his groin, opening her mouth so he could feel her breath against his erection, and he twitched before her as if in search of the heat of her mouth.

"Fuck, Belle,  _please,_ " he begged, trying to shift beneath her but his legs were trapped where his trousers held his knees together. So he settled for, "please, please,  _please._ "

"Look at me, Rumplestiltskin," she commanded softly, and he groaned but did as she asked, his eyelids fluttering open and his gaze flickering down to her, nearly painful in its intensity.

She shivered before she turned her attention to where his body was begging for her. Starting at the base, she trailed the tip of her tongue up the length of his cock, and Rumple stiffened, letting out a choked noise before he went lax as she finally wrapped her lips around the flushed head, sucking gently before she flicked her tongue out to taste him. His musk burst across her mouth, and she clenched her thighs as a new wave of heat passed through her at the familiar taste, musk and tang and  _him,_ everything she needed in that moment. Beads of sweat were forming on the back of her neck as she drew him further into her mouth, letting him brush against the back of her throat before she hummed, feeling the way he vibrated in her mouth as she worked him with her tongue, and she pulled back before taking him all the way in again.

She felt his hand at her temple a few strokes later, hesitating before he wrapped his wrapped his fingers in the long strands of her hair and squeezed gently.

"Belle," he warned. "Belle, wait."

She just sucked him harder, challenging him, knowing he was close and that if he wanted to finish inside her he would need to be a little more insistent. A ripple of pleasure washed through her when he cursed and did just that, tugging hard on her hair. She let him go with a wet plop and he growled as he urged her onto her back, towering over her as he kicked off his trousers and then pressed his mouth against hers, kissing her so hard their lips would be bruised from it later. His tongue swiped over hers and she could taste his cock and his mouth all at once, the delicious sensation making her groan with want. But she let him calm, let him work his way away from the edge as he focused on her pleasure instead of his own.

Belle certainly wasn't going to complain when he left her mouth to kiss her neck, and she tilted her chin to give him better access as he found a soft patch of skin and sucked it into his mouth, pulling and tugging and biting until it was sure to leave a mark.

His hands, meanwhile, were everywhere at once, fluttering over her sides, palming her breasts, tweaking her nipples until she cried out. Only then did he pull one into his mouth, laving at it softly, and from the way he moaned she wasn't sure who was enjoying it more.

"Gods, yes..." she whispered when he finally slipped his fingers beneath her panties and brushed them over her, spreading the moisture he found.

"You're so wet for me, darling," he breathed into her ear, his voice breathless with awe.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close, desperate for something to hold onto as he pushed a slender finger inside her. She hadn't realized how badly she needed him - needed this - until that moment; how empty she had felt without him until suddenly he was filling her up again. She needed  _more._  Needed him to drive his cock into her while she wrapped her legs around him and held him there, never wanting them to be apart ever again.

How could she ever have thought them being apart was right when she never felt more at home than when she was in his arms?

"Rumple, please?" she whispered hoarsely, and his hand stilled against her as he met her eyes, indecision flickering across his face for a moment.

"You're sure?" he asked, and she knew he would have stopped if she asked him to. He would have left her in a heartbeat if it was what she wanted; needs unmet, nothing repaired, just the hurt left between them again, and the empty space where things went left unsaid.

If he only knew how desperately she needed him. Not just here, now, but always.

She couldn't put it into words. They never had been very good at communicating, after all. So she just nodded and pulled him closer, burying her face in the crook of his neck and hoping he understood.

He waited only a second for her to change her mind before he tugged her panties down her legs and nestled properly between them, and then he was  _there,_  pressing against her, the tip of his cock hot and wet as it parted her folds. His hands were cupping her face, trying to get her to look at him, but she couldn't bear to. Oh, she wanted to, to see the love she knew would be there in his eyes, even with all the hurt and the anger and the resentment that stood between them. She didn't deserve to see it. She was hurting him, on purpose even at times. She needed to hang onto that anger, let it fuel her and steel her heart just enough that she wouldn't fall into a weeping, begging mess at his feet and let go of all that was important to her. Because she would, to have him. And they wouldn't be better for it.

He stilled above her, unable to push home without her there with him. Not like that. His nose was pressing against her hair, and she could feel his jaw clench with frustration, sweat beading over his back.

So she whispered the one truth she could allow, "I love you, Rumple."

He whimpered as he cradled her head against him, kissing her temple and her ear and as much of her as he could reach without letting her go.

"Thank you, Belle," he breathed just before he pushed inside her. 

Then there was only heat, the feel of her inner walls closing around him as she welcomed him home, his cock filling her and making her feel whole again. Pleasure rippled over her, cresting in blissful waves that made her cry out and hold him tighter, her nails digging little crescents into his back. He was positively quaking now, losing his rhythm with every thrust. There was no time to take things slow, to draw them out. No time for languid strokes and whispered words. He was pounding into her as if he'd waited his whole life to do so, and she lifted her hips to meet him every time, clawing towards the brink of release.

He lifted her thigh until it was wrapped high around his waist, his other hand still holding her to him and their bodies were so close that she could barely tell where she ended and he began. She could feel his pleasure as if it were her own, could hear it in every grunt of breath, every obscene slap of skin against skin, and when he thrust inside her as deep as he could go and she felt him explode inside her with a hoarse cry of her name, she followed right after him, her walls clamping down around him as she milked him dry.

Her orgasm felt like it went on for hours and yet not long enough. She didn't want it to end, the light that was flowing through her. She didn't want to let him go - to pull back from where they were molded to each other and let the darkness settle between them again.

She felt him soften inside her and he wrapped his arm around her waist, trying to hold her to him, but it was no use. He slipped from between her thighs and all at once the weight of what happened seemed to hit them both, creating a heavy, tense silent in the aftermath of their ragged breathing. 

He was shaking as he lifted himself from her, trying to relieve her of his weight. He wouldn't meet her eyes, she noticed, and why that hurt her more than anything else had, she wasn't sure. But there was sadness on his face, pinching the corners of his eyes, and she found herself reaching for him on instinct, her fingers curling around his chin to draw her face towards her. One look cleared away the hurt, for it wasn't that he couldn't bear to look at her. It was fear written in his amber eyes. Fear of her rejection, most likely, and she couldn't blame him though it pained her to see it, to see the way that he was trying to withdraw from her before she could push him away.

She cupped his face between her palms and he stilled at once, forever giving her a chance even though she had run out of them long ago.

She knew that what just happened hadn't remedied anything. On the contrary, it likely made things more complicated. For however much she loved him - and oh, she did love him - their road to recovery needed much more than this. It needed words and honesty and change. And while she needed to hold onto that chip on her heart, the crack that gave her the strength to be brave, the vulnerability in his eyes tugged at her, tugged at the love she felt beyond anything else.

She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his. This kiss was different than the others. This was soft, unhurried, meant to reassure and remind, to thank and to apologize. It was a kiss of a wife to her husband. And Rumple melted against her, fell into her waiting arms with a breath of relief against her mouth. And when she let him go, it was only to turn around and nestle against him, and he wrapped her in his embrace with an ease that belied their harsh words and snarled accusations. There was none of that now, not when he kissed her bare shoulder and pressed his palm to her stomach where their child lay growing. 

"I love you. Both of you," he whispered against her skin, and though everything was wrong - broken and hurt - Belle smiled. 

Because they could worry about that tomorrow.


End file.
